


Bird on a Leash

by Thirsty_Baby



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom/sub, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Psychology, Scent Kink, Sub Jaskier | Dandelion, basically this is just geralt thinking about how much he wants to fuck jaskier, but like in geralts thoughts, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22680655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirsty_Baby/pseuds/Thirsty_Baby
Summary: Sometimes all Geralt wants is Jaskier on a leash.Well, maybe not a leash but a chain.A pretty chain on a pretty neck, and maybe even a collar to attach the chain to. Yes, that would be heaven.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 30
Kudos: 581





	Bird on a Leash

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to fuck Jaskier, can you tell? pls point out if u find any mistakes.

They’re at the inn and Jaskier swings his way around the countless tables, singing, laughing, earning coin, laughs and winks from lonely women. Geralt looks at him, too lost in his thoughts to do anything about it, to tell Jaskier to stop, maybe sit down for a moment after the bard’s been whining about being exhausted the past few days but even if Geralt would actually say something Jaskier wouldn’t listen. Not when he basks in the much needed attention. Not when he’s in the middle of it.

The witcher growls quietly to himself.

Sometimes all Gerart wants is Jaskier on a leash. 

Well, maybe not a leash but a chain. 

A pretty chain on a pretty neck, and maybe even a collar to attach the chain to. Yes, that would be heaven.

When he glances over at Jaskier he can almost picture it, a gold chain that delicately sneaks around the bard's neck on one end, and rests in Geralt's own hand on the other. Geralt would wrap the chain a few times around his hand for an easy grip, so that he could tug at the chain whenever he pleases to lead his bard to wherever Geralt says. 

His bard. 

Jaskier isn't his per say. Yes he toggles along and sings of Geralt's glory, but Jaskier belongs to no one but himself or his muse, for that matter. Jaskier is like a wild flower, impossible to tame. But in his thoughts, in Geralt deepest, darkest thoughts, Jaskier is all his, body and soul. 

Little songbird, Jaskier is by no means small and fragile, but for Geralt he is. He's so fucking delicate and easy to break and so incredibly alive that Geralt can feel his pulse in his bones. The bard's blood rushes quickly through his veins, he's a constellation of endless energy. 

The darker parts of Geralt whisper to him, at night when he keeps guard at the fire, and Jaskier snores softly and his pulse flutters beneath his soft skin, yes that's when the whispers of "claim him. undress him, take him right there on the cold ground and bask in his moans" become the strongest. 

He wants to protect Jaskier from the entire world, murder all humanity if someone dares to lay a finger on his poet, but at the same time he wants to hurt Jaskier so badly. 

He shudders at the thought of chaining his little bard up to an inn's bed, whip his chest for being such a pain in the ass that day, and then fuck him face first into the mattress, his own hand gripping Jaskier's hair till his bard sobs and begs and tells him it hurts in the besets of ways, and of fucking course it should hurt Jaskier because Geralt is hurting. Hurting so, so much. 

When did that damned bard sneak his way into his heart? Was it when they were tied to one another and the elves dared lay a finger upon his possession? Was it when the djinn nearly killed Jaskier, and he doubled over near the water, blood dripping down his lips and eyes so incredibly blue. So fucking blue and pale and scared and Geralt knew he was head over heels? 

Geralt doesn’t know. And he stopped wondering a long time ago. 

All he knows is that he likes the thought of Jaskier being all his. Not just collared by Geralt but also marked up from head to toe. Bite marks on his chest and shoulders, love bites all over his neck, Gods, just the thought of dark, bruising love marks blooming upon Jaskier’s pale, tender skin fills Geralt with a sick, twisted feeling and he doesn’t know how to relieve it. 

He fucks whores into oblivion, they’re sobbing and speechless at the end of Geralt’s „love making“ but they’re too easy, they don’t even come close to Jaskier. 

His bard is not easy. No, that’s the fun in him. 

He’s annoying and he’s loud and he’s so incredibly vocal in bed (Geralt knows, he walked upon Jaskier fucking one of his countless love escapades far too many times). The witcher doesn’t wants Jaskier to submit to him like whores submit, ready to do whatever just to earn their coin. He wants Jaskier to submit willingly. 

He knows the bard wants it too. He can smell it on him, deep beneath the smell of herbs, lilacs, oranges and something so incredibly Jaskier lingers the constant smell of want that only appears when the bard lays his eyes upon Geralt. 

His scent is addictive. 

It’s like clear, fresh water when you’ve been walking all day in the sun, or like a meal after you’ve been starving for months. It’s addictive, and he can’t get enough, and Geralt fears that the only way to relieve himself would be to undress his bard, bury his nose in his hair, his neck, his chest and breathe in his scent till he has had enough. 

Would he though?

He can’t stand being close to Jaskier anymore, because his urge to grab him and hold him close is overwhelming. Because the urge to bend the insufferable poet down onto a table and fuck him senseless is overwhelming. Because Jaskier is overwhelming. 

Jaskier is so very open, communicative and when he’s laughing or singing the entire inn joins him and he basks in their attention, that’s when Geralt wants to rip all Jaskier’s clothes off, have the entire inn fuck him, no matter if man or woman, old or young, he’d let all of them have their way with his bard. 

Then, when they’d retrieve and step aside, he’d find Jaskier fucked out on the table, his brown hair messy and cum dripping down his thighs, eyes glossy and mouth agape, finally at loss for words, but not at loss for little whimpers and moans. And then Geralt would fuck all the stranger’s cum out of him, while growling what a whorish, little cunt he is into Jaskier’s ear, before cumming deep inside him. 

Gods, wouldn’t that be absolute fucking bliss, having Jaskier in the grasp of his hand. Geralt knows Jaskier weighs nothing, absolutely nothing, he is like a feather, easy to carry. It would be so fucking easy to just throw him over his shoulder, or swoop him up into his arms and carry him up the stairs anytime. Anytime Geralt would finally decide to have his way with the bard.

Geralt knows, the moment he’d actually decide to have his bard, to claim him, he could. Jaskier showed him that often enough. 

The times his gaze lingers on the witcher’s naked frame. The accidental touches, the massages, the lips too close to the older man’s ear. It was Geralt’s own inability to handle his feelings that stopped him from fucking Jaskier into the nearest wall. 

But he can’t, or maybe, just maybe? He doesn’t want to be the one initiating it. 

Maybe he wants to wait till Jaskier is going insane with want, just like Geralt does. 

Maybe he wants Jaskier to crawl to Geralt, put his head on the witcher’s thigh and beg for his cock. 

Maybe he want his bard to sob and cry and rip at Geralt’s skin from the slightest of touches. 

Maybe that’s why Geralt denies them visits at brothels, Jaskier’S scent growing heavy with pent up frustration and the need for release. 

Maybe he’s sick like that, Geralt thinks his gaze penetrating the singing bard. 

But all he really wants is Jaskier on a leash.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, if I'll get outta my midterms alive I'm gonna write a second chapter/sequel, maybe Jaskier's thoughts or maybe them fucking? who knows.


End file.
